Quiet Thoughts
by Asellia Skyrunner
Summary: One-shot for BTR One-Shot day! :D James has been wanting quiet for a few weeks and Lyla has it in her mind to give it to him-granted, in the South Carolinian boondocks.  James/OC  First one-shot so...


**Hi everyone! :D So, this is a one shot for Big Time Rush One shot day on February 6, 2012. AKA: Today. ;D One-shots don't usually like me... I don't really know how to make _short _work so... yeah. But anyway, please read and let me know what you think! :D**

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><p>"If you go for that blindfold one more time, I'll tie your hands behind your back." The red-head shot, slapping James Diamond's hands from the bandana over his eyes for the sixth time in 15 minutes. "And don't think I won't."<p>

It was impossible to ignore the truth in his friend's voice, and for the hundredth time since he'd been blinded, he wondered where the girl was taking him. Like every teenage boy, he had his kinky thoughts that would never in a _million _years be spoken aloud (or lived out, for that matter). But the brunette knew better than anyone that Lyla wasn't even remotely considering that. Then of course, there was the option of a surprise party. A set-up. A trap.

And right as his mind set to work, a gentle hand tugged firmly on his bicep, pulling him to a subtle stop. "Hold on a sec…" She murmured softly, her fingers gentle as they twisted the knot of the bandana free, dropping it around his neck.

He froze at the sight before him—which was, distinctly and specifically—empty. There was only grass for miles, rolling hills full of nothing. Well, not quite nothing. This specific nothing-hill was decorated by an ocean-blue blanket, several assorted-colored bandanas, and a picnic basket. So… still kind of nothing…

He turned to her in gaping surprise, his words the only sound for probably a good two acres in every direction. "What is this?"

She grinned, waving her arms wildly at the emptiness. "Well, you said you were getting tired of the noise. So… here's some quiet." She pointed towards the basket. "There's fish-fingers, salad, and wings in there. Oh, and I left you a few bandanas."

She turned on her heel to leave, moving towards her truck faster than he anticipated. His first few swipes at her arm came back empty—which seemed to be the key pattern that day—finally grabbing it on the fourth try. "Hold on, Ly."

She threw a glance at him over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. "James?"

"Where are you going?"

"You said you wanted quiet." She replied, waving her free hand nonchalantly. "It won't exactly be quiet if I'm here."

"How am I gonna get home?"

"Text me." She pulled his phone (which she'd stolen at the beginning of the trip) from her pocket and slid it in his free hand. "I'll only be a few miles off so I can come grab you whenever you want."

He pondered it for a moment. She was right, of course. He had been wanting quiet for a long time—something he never would have said two years ago. But then, he wouldn't have been able to be just friends with Lyla two years ago. Two years ago, he would have demanded her attention and forgotten that she had rights too. All the same, he didn't really want to be left alone in the middle-of-no-where South Carolina with no idea where he was. "Stick around for a little while."

"That defeats the purpose of quiet, Diamond." His apartment-mate joked, pulling her arm from his grip. "So you enjoy your quiet, and text when me when you want me back here." She jumped in her truck and left then, left him in the middle-of-no-where with only his thoughts, bandannas, and food for company.

But it was quiet. Dead silent, actually, if you discounted the rustle of the grass whenever a remotely strong gust of wind went by. Which James did because he knew Ly was trying to help him.

And as he lay there, he realized one simple thing. Quiet meant thinking and thinking was a threat. More so than it had been when he first went to Hollywood, anyway.

Suddenly, and in drastic contrast to his previous years, he had someone other than himself and his cool-with-almost-anything best friends to think about. Lyla—her feelings to consider when making choices on tour-dates, her opinion to think about when he made dates with girls—if he came in too late or with a girl too loud, she got pissed. He had to think about what she wanted for dinner and how she wanted to spend her weekends.

And realistically, he'd set himself up for it by trying to help her find the apartment of her dreams. Not that he'd even vaguely considered that spending 7 hours a day with a girl could make him fall head-over-heels for her.

"I mean…" he muttered to himself as he pulled the fish sticks from the basket. "We were looking at real estate for god's sake…"

Kendall had warned him, though.

"_Look man. I'm not saying don't do it. I'm just saying… be ready for whatever comes." The blonde was the image of comfort—what with his arms thrown over the top of the couch on either side of him and a hockey game on the TV. _

"_I don't even know what that _means._" James threw at him as another commercial rolled by. _

"_You'll figure it out eventually." Kendall replied, heading turning back to the returning game. "And you'll kick yourself for not knowing sooner."_

_And that was the end of that._

He glanced at his phone, unsurprised that it hadn't ringed, but almost frustrated by it at the same time. A picture of Lyla and the boys loomed out at him from a few months ago. Her fiery red hair and admittedly rather obvious curves set her apart from James's favorite blonde, brunette, and raven-haired guys.

But as he stared at the picture, fish stick in his other hand, he was thinking again. Thinking about Lyla's smile and the way she laughed, and _dammit_, he hated himself for thinking about those nights when she fell asleep against him while they were watching TV. Thoughts like that were more dangerous that most.

Thoughts like _that _reminded him that he had feelings for her. But he thought them anyway.

He saw her truck pulling its way up the hill, easily navigating the tread it had before. The fierce blue was sharp against the dewy green of South Carolinian fields. She pulled to a stop just where she had before (and she had tire-treads to prove it).

She grinned as she jumped down from the truck, walking leisurely towards the brunette to help him clean-up.

"Saved you a wing." He smiled back, gesturing towards the plate. His mind was made-up before the words left his lip, but he sounded less confident out-loud than he did when he imagined in his head. "But I want to ask you something first."

She squinted curiously at him. He tried to brush it off as he walked closer to her and gave her a weak smile. She looked confused as hell. "Shoot." He took a deep breath and dived in to kiss her, hoping to whatever higher-power that existed that she wouldn't leave him to figure out how to get away after that.

She hitched a breath and, to his utter surprise, twisted her arms around his neck to pull him closer. One of his hands rested on her shoulder, the other cupped the back of her head as he pushed the kiss a bit longer than he'd planned. Then he smiled softly into the kiss, pulling away for a breath. Then his brain started working again. "Wait, Ly…"

She set a gentle hand on his cheek, "Don't worry about it right now, James. Just be quiet."

He chuckled, resting his hands on her waist. "Quiet, eh?"

She rolled her eyes, resting her forehead to his for a brief moment. "As quiet as the South Carolina boondocks."

And with that, she kissed him.

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><p><strong>Okay, so it's kind of fluffy... but I hope you liked it. :D I had fun writing it. Either way, please review! I love reading reviews. ;D<strong>

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Cali**


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